Page 23 of Rebel Protector

“I thought you liked the gypsy life.”

She frowned. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is.”

He raised his beer, taking a long drink.

They watched as the sun dipped below the treeline.

A short time later she said, “I should get back before it’s dark—or someone notices I’m not there.”

“I can walk you.”

“That’s okay.”

He followed her to the door. That scent—magnolia and something softer—wrapped around him. She hesitated before stepping out.

“Is it drugs or weapons?” she asked quietly, her eyes searching his. “Or both?”

“Weapons,” he said after a pause.

“From Eastern Europe?”

“Probably.”

“And you smuggle them across the border for him?”

He nodded.

Her eyes narrowed, like she was trying to read him. “So, you’re an arms trafficker, mercenary, and soldier.” It wasn’t really a question.

He didn’t respond. She wasn’t wrong.

She reached out, her hand resting on his chest, and he sucked in a breath.

Shit.

“Yet tonight, you’re still the gentleman. Or is that just for me?”

She was sharp, he’d give her that. The truth was, hewasinto her. Badly. All he wanted was to pick her up, carry her upstairs, and peel that dress off one button at a time.

Damn.

He was losing it.

Somehow, he managed to keep his cool. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

She smiled. “That’s a new one.” Her fingers traced up his chest, her breath catching like she was waiting for something to break.

And break it did.

The tension coiled tight inside him snapped, and he cupped her neck, pulling her into a kiss.

CHAPTER 8

Becca felt Dom’s lips crush down on hers, and everything inside her melted.

Hell yes.